


Dirty Paws

by archerkink (runawaygirl)



Category: DCU, Red Hood and the Outlaws, Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Domestic, Flirting, M/M, mention of canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runawaygirl/pseuds/archerkink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can’t do that.” he hisses. “My landlady doesn’t allow pets. He—I—This— I don’t even know what to feed him. Jase, why is he a corgi, how did this even happen-”</p><p>“You won’t even know he’s here!” Jason says. “Come on, Red, we can’t leave him at the manor. Not right now.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Paws

\--  


Tim knows, in the back of his mind, that today isn’t going to be a good one when he stumbles out of bed in the morning and realises he’d squeezed the last of the toothpaste from the tube _yesterday_. He’s already late for his only Tuesday class and feels shitty after last night’s patrol, so logical conclusion? Not a working day. More like a sleep until two in the afternoon and finish the reports Bruce doesn’t read before patrolling and hoping tomorrow is better kind of day.

 

He also needs to buy more toothpaste.

 

But before he can crawl back into his nest of blankets and warmth and pillows, there’s a knock on his door. Well, not a knock. Knocks are polite. This was more of a bang-bang-bang, open-up-before-I-break-your-door.

 

And that’s how Tim finds himself sitting across from Jason and Kory with a corgi wearing a dopey-looking hat currently sprawled across his lap. There’s mostly silence for the first few minutes, broken only by the corgi’s panting and Jason’s occasional snicker.

 

Tim looks at the dog, then back at the pair sitting across from him. “I can’t do that.” he hisses. “My super doesn’t allow pets. He--I--This-- I don’t even know what to _feed_ him. Jase, _why is he a corgi, how did this even happen_ -”

 

“You won’t even know he’s here!” Jason says. “Come on, Red, we can’t leave him at the manor. Not right _now.”_ He glances at Kory. “And Dickie’s in Chicago.” 

 

Her eyes narrow slightly before she purses her lips before smiling sunnily at him. “Tim.” She says. “We just need to leave him somewhere we know he’ll be safe.”

 

“And since the Titans have disbanded-“ 

 

“ _Temporarily_ -“

 

“I _know_. But, since you’re the only stable one at the moment,” Jason continues. “I need this favour, little brother.”

 

Oh, that’s just not _fair._ Tim scowls at him, then looks at the corgi on his lap. He takes it as his queue to climb up Tim’s chest and start licking his face and--

 

“God, ew, stop-“

 

He picks the dog up and holds him away from his body, watching him pant and wag his tail. Why do corgi’s have distractingly goofy smiles? Granted it’s not very different from Roy’s usual smiles. More tongue, more teeth and more drool though. Roy shuts his mouth and makes a low whining sound, and Tim can feel his resolve slipping. 

 

Apparently Jason can feel it too. “It’s only for a few days. We just need to find the prick that did this, and get him to reverse the spell. Besides,” he grins a little. “He likes _you_.”

 

Roy yaps, wagging his tail. Tim wrinkles his nose. “As long as he stays quiet.” he mutters. “And doesn’t doesn’t get _fur_ all over my carpets.”

 

On the way out, Jason ruffles his hair and Kory presses a kiss to his forehead. They promise to be back as soon as possible. Tim’s left with Roy the corgi, tail wagging and scratching at his own chin.

 

“I suppose I have to buy dogfood now, huh?”

 

Roy tilts his head, cocking an ear, then makes a whining sound. 

 

\--

 

Tim takes a break from writing up his report and goes to grab something to snack on because peckish seems to be his default setting lately. He returns to his laptop a moment later with juice and a chocolate bar, only to find Roy flopped across his keyboard.

 

Tim rolls his eyes and doesn’t bother moving him when he sits back down. “Yeah, I get it.” he says, scratching behind Roy’s ears. “You’re bored.”

 

Roy attempts to bite at Tim’s bar. He holds it out of reach. “Dogs can’t eat chocolate, remember?”

 

The corgi whines.

 

“Yeah, well, think about that next time you do something stupid. Don’t give me that look. I know you did something stupid. Otherwise you wouldn’t be a _dog_.”

 

Roy makes another sad noise and lowers his head to lap at Tim’s juice. Tim huffs. He should’ve bought dog biscuits or something. At least without the hat, he can scratch at Roy’s ears. Judging by the nudging and the turning over onto his belly, he’s got the petting part down. 

 

“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to feed you.” Tim says. “Barring chocolate. And dairy stuff. And cooked bones, apparently.” he scratches underneath Roy’s chin. “I wanted pizza tonight. I suppose I can just give you some meat or something.” There are flecks of colour on Roy’s underbelly, that might be the dog-equivalent to freckles.

 

Tim smiles a little when Roy suddenly sits up to scratch viciously at his ear with his hind leg. “You’re ridiculously cute.” he says, and doesn’t bat Roy’s face away when he nuzzles in to lick him. “As a dog.” he amends. “At least now I don’t have to put with your dumb arrow puns. Yes, they’re dumb. The bird ones too.”

 

He lets the corgi sit in his lap while he finishes up the reports and realises after a while that Roy’s stopped yapping at him and fallen asleep.

 

\--

 

When Tim gets back from patrol, tired and more than a little drained, he finds that the table in his living room has been toppled over, and fragments of a broken ceramic vase on the rug. And dirt on the carpet from a fallen potted plant, with suspicious paw prints tracking from the carpet to the kitchen.

 

Roy perks up when he enters the room, tail thumping on the floor. The corgi approaches him and Tim crosses his arms. Roy cocks up an ear, like he didn’t just ruin Tim’s living room.

 

Tim points his thumb at the mess behind him. He’s going to have to clean all that up when he gets back from class in the morning. Hopefully Roy knows to stay away from ceramic shards. He’s still not entirely sure how _human_ Roy is right now. The corgi in question drops his tail and hides behind his paw, whining pathetically.

 

Tim sighs, slides of his mask and shoes. He doesn’t even want to _look_ at the mess right now, so he drags his feet upstairs, vaguely aware of the corgi running around his heels. He stashes away his belt and armour, then pauses in the doorway of his bathroom.

 

He’s got class in the morning. It’s nearly three in the morning. He stinks.

 

Tim sighs, then twists the taps open and strips out of his underclothes while he waits for the tub to fill up. He needs to take a bus up because he’s meeting Ives for breakfast before they go to class and he needs to remember to charge his phone tonight.

 

He climbs into the bath and lets the water soak into his skin. Then gets a splash of water to the face because Roy picks that moment to jump into the goddamn tub. Tim groans, but Roy’s...doggy-paddling through the water towards him, looking very pleased with himself. Tim frowns and huffs because...it’s cute. 

 

And really Tim has no idea if using shampoo or soap on an animal counts as abuse or at least unethical, so he rubs the wet fur without any kind of soap, and cleans his dirty paws too. He lets Roy swim around the tub while he washes his hair. He should’ve just showered. But he wanted a bath. Tim sighs.

 

Roy had been a pain in his ass since he’d started working extensively with the Outlaws. That’s not to say _Jason_ wasn’t a pain in his ass by himself, just. At least when Jason was messing with him, he’d used hair-ruffles and call him ‘kid’ and ‘squirt’ and ‘short-stack’ and occasionally ‘little brother’ when he wanted to _really_ piss him off.

 

Kory was the easiest to get along with. The worst she’d done was tuck strands of his hair behind his ear while he was speaking, stroke his cheek fondly while he was trying to rally the Titans together and leave lipstick stains on his head and brow. She’d had a soft spot for Jason’s little brother, it seemed, and well. Tim wasn’t about to argue with a warrior princess.

 

Roy, however, was annoying whenever he got the chance. He’d sling his arm around Tim in a hold Tim just knew he’d picked up from Jason and told him unnecessary details about his sex life and what his tattoos meant and how Red Robin’s wings made him look like a Las Vegas showgirl. He also liked to squish Tim’s face between his hands and press kisses to his cheek and generally hangs all over him when he’s _trying to get work done, dammit_ \--

 

And since the Titans went their separate ways for the time-being, Red Hood and his Outlaws had been breaking into Tim’s apartment for information more and more often. Which was kind of weird in and of itself, considering Jason has full access to the Batcave now. Tim still can’t bring himself to go back to the manor.

 

A wet nose presses against the side of Tim’s neck, and he realises he’d been dozing in the bath, and really that’s dangerous, but--

 

It’s also been an hour since he’d started soaking. Time to climb out of the tub. Tim pulls the plug and towels himself dry before picking Roy up and setting him on the tiled floor. Roy shakes himself, splashing water _everywhere, goddammit_ , and pants happily. Tim snorts and drops his towel on the corgi while he pulls on his boxers and a t-shirt that might’ve belonged to Jason at some point, then sets on the task of drying Roy’s fur.

 

He makes his way to his bed, pulls back the covers and crawls between the sheets. He hears Roy scamper across the floor and feels him hop up onto the bed and settle in beside him. Tim raises a brow at him. Roy chases his own tail briefly, then flops down, tail still wagging. 

 

“I’m still mad at you for trashing my living room.” Tim says. Roy whines, eyes wide, head resting on his paws. Tim blows out an irritated breath. “You are _so_ lucky you’re a dog right now.” he strokes behind Roy’s ears. “Like, stupendously lucky. If you were human, I’d be making you clean that mess.” he sigh. “But you’re not. And I’m too tired to yell at you for it.” Roy licks Tim’s nose. “See, even that’s less irritating because you’re a cute dog. Goddammit.”

 

He falls asleep eventually.

 

\--

 

When Tim gets home, Roy’s toppled over a box he’d hadn’t had the chance to unpack when he moved into the apartment. There are jagged tears in the cardboard from where he tried to pull it into the middle of the hallway with his teeth. 

 

He’s pawing at Tim’s old CD cases and shoving them aside into two separate piles. Tim drops his bag and pauses in the doorway. When Roy sees him he sits up, wagging his tail. By now he knows to keep his bark down without being prompted.

 

Tim kneels down, pets him briefly before shoving at him and picking up the Green Day album he was hovering over. “Roy, I have enough to clean up without you adding my CD’s to it.”

 

Roy digs through one of the piles of album covers and picks one up in his teeth. Tim almost thinks he’s about to go to the stereo system, but he swerves towards the kitchen instead and uses his paws to scramble open the lid of Tim’s wastebasket. He frowns as the corgi scuttles off and checks under the lid.

 

Roy had just thrown his Best of Enya album in the trash.

 

What even is Tim’s life coming to.

 

\--

 

Roy’s been out of the apartment a grand total of twice because every time Tim takes him to the park so he can run around for a while to stay in shape, he ends up running towards some attractive lady who was jogging and getting petted. The first time it had happened, Tim apologised profusely, trying to drag Roy back. 

 

The second time it happened, Tim had gotten hit on. Once he’d apologised and the jogger winked at him and went back to jogging, Tim had given Roy a look that translated roughly into ‘I am judging you so fucking hard right now.’

 

The second time Tim had managed to smuggle Roy out without Mrs Mac finding out, he’d bought a leash. It was murder getting it on him, but at least this way he could keep an eye on him. He didn’t count on Roy somehow slipping out of the collar- _by squishing his head into his neck, how_ \- and rushing towards some really good-looking guy sitting on a park bench and, well. Tim now has the number of a Tommy from Florida. Tommy from Florida has Caroline Hill’s phone number, not Tim’s so-

 

Tim’s stopped taking Roy out on walks. And it’s all Roy’s fault.

 

\--

 

Roy likes to curl up with Tim on his bed on days Tim can’t muster the energy to go to class. He makes a place for himself and just flops down, half on top of Tim, and Tim forgets that he isn’t actually a corgi sometimes. He usually falls asleep if Tim leaves something playing on his laptop while he hi-lights and scribbles notes into his textbooks.

 

“So, still no word from Jase and Kory, huh?” he says, scratching underneath Roy’s chin. “Should I get you neutered or something? Since it looks like you’re gonna be a corgi forever.”

 

Roy yaps, then nuzzles at Tim’s hands before rolling over onto his back, suddenly not looking very happy at all.

 

“Aw, don’t do that.” Tim tickles his stomach. “Corgi’s aren’t able to look sad. You just look constipated.”

 

Roy flops over onto his paws and shakes himself, as if willing loose hairs to come out and litter Tim’s bed. Because Roy the corgi is a vengeful little dog indeed. He settles back down, head on his paws. Tim sighs, then drags him up to cradle him to his chest. “I’ll call Jason later tonight. We’ll see where he is.”

 

He feels him nuzzle and lick at his neck, and smiles. 

 

\--

 

When he does call Jason, he can makes out the not so subtle sound of bullets hitting metal and roaring of Kory’s starbolts. “I’m a little tied up right now.” he grumbles. “Is this important baby red?”

 

“It’s about your third partner. The one that got turned into a dog, remember? He’s got red hair, freckles and wears a lot of stupid hats?”

 

“Oh yeah, him.” Jason says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Totally not the reason Kory and I are in Tibet hunting this magic fucker down, nope.”

 

Tim pinches the bridge of his nose. “Look, are you any closer to finding a way to reverse the spell?” Roy paws at his leg. “Because it’s been a whole two weeks, Jason, and I have exams soon. And Roy’s getting nervous. And you said it would only be a few days.”

 

“I know, kid, jesus.” Tim hears the faint click of Jason changing his cartridge. “We ran into some trouble. Don’t get bent out shape,” he adds, as if predicting Tim’s offer to help. “Nothing we can’t handle. You just...keep studying or whatever. We’re almost done here.” The phone clicks off and Tim very barely resists the urge to chuck it against the wall.

 

Roy paws at his bare leg. He sighs and leans out down to stroke his head.

 

\--

 

Red Robin stumbles in through his window, clutching his side and starts stripping immediately. The corgi on his bed perks up and follows him to the bathroom. Tim’s bleeding from his side. There’s a gash and the smell of copper is heavy and clouding his nostrils when Roy pats at Tim’s leg for attention. Tim’s having none of it, it seems, he’s too preoccupied with gritting his teeth while he’s cleaning the wound. He swiftly proceeds to give himself six stitches, fingers moving swiftly and carefully, even as blood starts to stain them. 

 

It’s not the first time Roy wonders why are you doing this yourself, _why isn’t there anyone helping, why are you alone_ , but all it translates to is a low whine in the back of his throat. He rests his head on Tim’s thigh and waits for to wrap the bandages around himself.

 

Tim scratches behind his ears, then moves to put away the first aid box, moving slowly, so as to not strain his stitches. Roy remembers how horrible Jason is for that kind of thing and really wishes his partners would just _hurry up-_

 

The comm. still in Tim’s ear buzz with noise, and Tim flicks it off before dropping it on the bathroom rug. He sighs, rubbing at his eyes. Roy sits in front of him, waiting.

 

After a minute, Tim huffs out a reluctant laugh, pats his head and mutters ‘cute’ before making his way to his bed. Roy runs around his feet before dragging himself up onto the bed by scrambling up the blankets with his dumb, short legs-- and crawls up onto Tim’s chest, curled into his uninjured side. Tim chuckles, then starts petting Roy’s fur until he slows and finally stops.

 

His breathing becomes deep and something like calm and Roy tucks his his head into the space between his neck and shoulder.

 

-

 

There’s a knock on the door and Tim brow dips low. He waits, hand poised on his keyboard before the knock sounds again. Roy ducks under the couch in case it’s the landlady, and suddenly there are two voices in the apartment. Hushed voices, almost hissing, before he hears a laugh. 

 

Roy cocks his ear up. That was a girl. And not Mrs Mac. 

 

Without waiting for Tim’s affirmative, he pulls himself out from under the couch (god _damn_ these little legs) and goes to greet the company. And yes, it’s a girl. Her hair is dyed and shaved on one side and she has a piercing in her nose and above the corner of her mouth, and she’s wearing leather, torn jeans and a band shirt. In short, she doesn’t look anything like what he’d expected one of Tim’s friends to look like.

 

But she coos at him and kneels down to pet him, and Roy likes her already. “Cute dog. But I thought your landlady didn’t allow pets?”

 

“She doesn’t.” Tim sighs. “Harper, this is Roy. I’m watching him for a friend.”

 

Roy makes a noise of protest because _he’s not actually a dog, he doesn’t need watching_ , but Harper snorts and keeps scratching behind his years. “What kind of dumb hillbilly name is Roy?” she says, and really he’d protest but the scratches just feel so _good_.

 

“So.” Harper drawls out. 

 

Tim arches a brow. “So?”

 

“So, go get changed. I don’t have all night.”

 

Tim rolls his eyes, then returns his attention to his computer screen. “I’m not going to your party, Harper.”

 

“First off,” She says, drawing her hand away, much to Roy’s dismay. “It’s not my party. It’s that chick from that film school. Kerry Callie, or whatever. And secondly, yes you are.”

 

“No, I’m not.” Tim repeats. “How’d you get my address, anyway?”

 

“It wasn’t all that hard after Wayne adopted you and Cullen started fawning over you.” Roy’s ears perk up. Who the hell is Cullen? “He still doesn’t know that our Tim is Tim Wayne.” she smirks. “It’s actually kinda funny. And it’s really just a stone’s throw from Tim Drake to Tim Wayne to Alvin Draper.”

 

Tim pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not going to your party.”

 

“Tim, come on. Ives’ll be there.”

 

He gives her a surprised look. “How did you convince _Ives_ to come?”

 

Roy whines. Who the hell is Ives? Harper tuts and picks him up, and Roy licks her face, because she’s Tim’s friend and also he’s being petted. “I told him you were coming.” She grins. “Come on, go put in your piercing in and I’ll find you someone to make-out with.”

 

Roy yaps and squirms in her arms before Tim takes him from her and lets him flop on his lap. “I’ve got exams this week, Harper. Ives has exams, too.”

 

“It’s not like you two need to study.”

 

Tim flounders, looking for excuses. “I’ve got no one to watch Roy.” he says weakly, and Roy is torn between being offended at being used as an excuse and smug because Tim picked him over _Ives_ and _Cullen_ and _Kerry Callie_ and _Harper_.

 

Harper grins.

 

-

 

Cullen is Harper’s kid brother, and more than happy to babysit Roy while Tim runs up to pull on a pair of tight pants and a t-shirt and hops into Harper’s truck. Cullen’s a sweet kid, and starts complaining good-naturedly about his sister and Tim almost immediately after they leave. He pets Roy all the while, talks to him about how much he’s always wanted a dog and how much of an ass Tim is for not telling them he wasn’t dead after his house got shot up, which is a story Roy will want to pursue after he turns back into a human.

 

It isn’t very long after they leave when Roy hears the truck again. He sits up, ears perked up, listened to snatches of Tim and Harper hissing.

 

“...seriously, Tim, what the hell?”

 

“She asked me about Damian, Harper. Bruce’s kid.” 

 

Cullen frowns, peeking over the couch at them. His sister stares at Tim with apprehension, then takes a deep breath. “Cullen, go sit in the truck.”

 

“But-“

 

“Now, Cullen.”

 

The kid huffs, pats Roy on the head, then leaves the room, calling goodbye to Tim on his way out.

 

Harper stares at Tim a while before he drops his eyes and makes his way to sit on his couch. She follows him. Roy hops onto Tim’s lap, paw pressed against his chest. Tim maneuvers him until he’s sitting comfortably. His hands are cold.

 

“How much do you know?” He asks. “Like, about everything. How much do you actually know?”

 

Harper’s eyes narrow before she licks her lips. “I never needed to know who was behind the mask, like you did.”

 

Tim nods, then sighs, fingers restless in Roy’s fur. “Robin died about nine months ago.”

 

Roy knew that, but it still stings. He played catch with Jason’s kid brother. He barely knew him.

 

Harper looks stunned. “I didn’t--The kid she was tutoring?” she asks.

 

Tim shrugs. “Batman wants-“ he pauses. “I don’t know what he wants. But he’s not better.”

 

“Is that why you moved out?” She asks after a pregnant pause. 

 

“I never actually lived _in_ the manor, Harpo. And Batman wants Carrie Kelley as far away from this as possible.”

 

“He’s given me that same warning.” Harper says.

 

Tim’s smile is rueful. “But you’re not listen to him.”

 

“Pretty much, yeah. Why?” she smiles. “You gonna try to stop me?”

 

“Hell no, I like being able to breath through my nose.”

 

Roy licks at Tim’s hands for attention, and is almost surprised when he gets hauled up close to Tim’s chest and held. “Bet you never thought we’d be like this when we were eight and waiting on the roof of your dad’s house for Batman to show up.”

 

Harper snickers out a surprised laugh before nudging Tim’s side. “Shut it. You were the stalker, not me.” She scratches underneath Roy’s chin, then sighs. “I’m gonna head home.” she prods Tim’s cheek with a finger. “Next time we all go out, we’re not going anywhere near Kerry Callie.”

 

-

 

Roy feels Tim leave the next day, rather than hears it. He remembers a quick caress and some words he hadn’t bothered trying to make sense of before he yawned wide and fell back to sleep. He rolls over and confirms that yes, he is still a corgi, before hopping off the bed and looking for something to tip over before Tim comes home.

 

(It’s not his fault the kid’s pout is cute as hell. Plus, it means he can’t sit hunched over his laptop the second he gets home.)

 

Someone _is_ here though. Roy can feel it. The same way he can almost feel Tim’s presence at the door before Tim’s even there. He bounds downstairs, almost slips down them _again_ , and skids at the turn before rushing into the living room. 

 

He almost runs away when he spots _Batman_ , of all people, standing in the centre of the room. He smells of grime and blood and a lot like Tim when he comes home from patrol, and--

 

Roy growls, then barks, which turn into rather pitiful yelps when Batman turns his head to face him, and he’s really lucky he’s a cute dog because Batman wouldn’t kick a dog.

 

Right?

 

The door opens and shuts, and Tim’s suddenly there, hissing at him to stop barking. Roy whines, then turns back to the living room--

 

The now-empty living room-

 

 _The now-empty living room with one of the windows wide open_ -

 

“Bruce.” Tim says quietly, then looks a little ill. Roy smells blood and realises Tim’s stitches have popped.

 

\--

 

Tim lies on his uninjured side, textbook open in front of him, petting Roy’s belly like nothing had happened at all. Roy pants and rolls around when Tim’s hand stills, prompting him to start petting again.

 

“You know,” Tim says. “I think I like you a lot as a dog.” Roy turns over on his belly and whines. Tim smiles at him. “I don’t want to _stay_ this way, god. Just. You’re easier to cuddle with. And talk to. Or at. Whatever.”

 

Roy hops up and starts licking his face, even while Tim’s trying to calm him down. He sighs, scratching at the side of his neck. “It’s almost like having...like having...” Tim snorts and shakes his head, returning his attention to his textbook.

 

\--

 

Tim wakes up when he feels something wet press against his cheek and lap at it. He groans, trying to bat Roy away with one hand. His alarm hasn’t even gone off yet. Another flick of Roy’s tongue, this time near his jaw. Tim groans and waves him off again.

 

The feel of a pair of lips press against his cheek is unmistakable, as is the smacking sound they make puckered against Tim’s skin.

 

He jolts awake and turns over, nearly colliding with a handsome, faintly freckled face. Roy grins at him, and it’s hard not to be reminded of the corgi. “Morning.” he winks. “Miss me, baby red?”

 

“I, uh...” And that’s the mortification settling in, where realises that when he’d pretty much whined at and spilled insignificant little details about his life to the corgi, he’d actually been talking to an actual person. A person who really, really enjoyed teasing him mercilessly.

 

He also remembers he’s got an exam in about forty minutes. 

 

Tim hesitates before stripping off his pyjama pants to haul on a pair of jeans, but only momentarily. After all, he’s taken a bath with Roy before.

 

He tries not to think about how weird that sounds when he turns to catch Roy watching him change with a big, dumb grin on his face. Tim realises Roy’s naked. The only things he owns that might fit him are some of Jason’s old clothes.

 

“There’s food in the fridge.” he says, glancing at his clock and realising _oh shit he’s got twenty-two minutes left._ “You should call Jason, too.”

 

\--

 

Bernard is talking in Tim’s ear about how the party went last night, and not speaking at all about the exam they just had when Tim gets a text from an unknown number, instructing him to look out the window.

 

Tim frowns, but does, and catches the bright red of Arsenal’s motorcycle almost immediately. Roy beams up at him and waves.

 

“Is _that_ for _you_?” Bernard asks, sounding quite scandalised. 

 

“Shut up,” Tim tells him and shoots down the stairs as fast as he can. 

 

\--

 

Roy’s leaning back against his bike and attracting a lot of attention and jesus, Bernard is never going to let go of this.

 

“What’re you doing here?” Tim hisses through his teeth.

 

He has his hair tied back into a clumsy ponytail that looks messy and attractive, and really, _how_. He grins. “I thought I’d take you out to lunch.” he says. “As a thank you. For putting up with me.”

 

Tim’s mouth is strangely dry when he swallows. “I have another exam.”

 

“Yeah, in like an hour.” Then Roy does this thing with his eyes and his bottom lip-- “Pretty please?”

 

Tim frowns hard, then glances around them. There are still people staring at them and god, he’s going to be the subject of so many conversations now. Why the hell couldn’t Roy have a subtler motorcycle? “Ok.” he says out loud. “Fine.”

 

“Great.” Roy says cheerfully, pulling his spare helmet out of a compartment in the bike. “I’m dying for something chocolate.”

 

\--

 

Roy’s on his fourth helping of waffles when Tim’s hardly finished one of his, and the amount of syrup and chocolate he’s smothered them in is making Tim nervous for the sake of his health. But Roy piles on strawberries and cream and honey, and keeps wolfing them down, like he’d been starving and this was the first meal he’d gotten in days.

 

He licks his lips and his eyes crinkle at the edges when he smiles. “So, I’m gonna have to replace all your shitty music with good music, right?”

 

“What’s wrong with my music?” is what flies out of Tim’s mouth, even though he’s more preoccupied with the way Roy sucks his teeth clean. “You owe me a Green Day CD.”

 

“Not gonna ask me for a replacement Enya one?”

 

“No.” He’d fished that out of the trash already. He stares at Roy, who’s still grinning at him. “You’ve- uh, got...” Tim taps the corner of his own mouth. “Some, uh...”

 

Roy frown, then trails his tongue on the opposite side of his mouth, looking for whatever what on his face. Tim huffs out a brief laugh. “Other side.” he says, even as Roy frowns harder. 

 

He leans forward into Tim’s space. “Get it for me?” Because his hands are sticky, even though he’s using a fork and knife. Tim grabs the napkin at the side of his plate and dabs at the chocolate on Roy’s mouth, his cheek and the speck on his forehead, which makes him chuckle self-consciously. His smile softens when Tim pulls his hand back.

 

He doesn’t even realise he’s staring until Roy winks and taps Tim’s plate with his fork. “You gonna finish that?”

 

Tim shakes his head, and Roy stabs his waffle with his fork and drags it onto his plate, then proceeds to smother it cream and even more chocolate. He licks his fork clean, then his lips and belches into his hand before leaning back and sighing, grinning contently. Like he hadn’t just eaten 30 dollars worth of waffles.

 

“God, that’s good.” he says. “Being a dog sucks. I mean baths are a whole lot more fun,” Tim blushes hard. “And being petted all the time was pretty great too, but dog food tastes like crap. I swear If I ever get a dog, I’m just feeding it meat.”

 

Tim rolls his eyes. “Dogs are high-maintenance.” he says, and prays his blush isn’t showing through as hard as he feels it is. “I have to clean my carpets. And I still have a bag of dogfood left. Did you call Jason?”

 

“Yep, he’s on a plane as we speak. I’m gonna hit him up at the airport. Slobber his face a little, you know how it goes.”

 

“You’re not a dog anymore.”

 

Roy’s grin this time is sharper. “And I’m gonna make him regret I was ever turned into one. By being an overly-affectionate puppy until the day I die.”

 

Tim shakes his head. “I don’t know how he puts up with you. I could barely stand it, and you were a dog for most of the time.”

 

“Aww, but you adore me, baby red. Why else would you cuddle me in bed?” he bats his eyelashes even as Tim chokes.

 

“You were a _corgi_.”

 

“You sing in the shower.” Roy says. “And you leave your shit lying around on the bathroom floor. And you’ve got a _piercing_ \-- does Jase know about that, by the way?”

 

“You--I-“

 

“And you liked playing with my paws.” Roy illustrates this by waving his hands around. “And my arrow puns are _genius_ , thank you very much.”

 

\--

 

Roy drives him back to Gotham U just in time for his next test, and the stares haven’t gotten any less _there._ Tim steps off Roy’s motorcycle, and puts a good metre of space between them. “Thank you for lunch.” he says.

 

The redhead grins wide, and bites his tongue between his teeth, smiling like- hell, smiling like a _corgi_ \- before he stands, and closes the distance between them. Roy still tastes like chocolate and his lips are still sticky, but Tim finds that he doesn’t really mind that when Roy’s arm curls around his hips and starts nipping a little at his lips. He squirms when Roy licks a stripe down his cheek. 

 

“See you soon, baby red.” Roy purrs and makes a show of straddling his bike before speeding off.

 

When Tim turns around he immediately spots Ives, Zoanne and Benard, wearing sheepish, shocked and smug expressions respectively.

 

-

Roy slips in through Tim’s open window about two months later, after clearing several different drug lords out of the warehouses in the docks. The windows open, and it’s not warm, but not really cold either. Which, according to Jason, constitutes as a good day. Gotham’s weather is dumb. 

 

He spots Tim’s head on the arm of his couch and thinks the kid is asleep until he hears a quiet “Hello?”

 

“Hey, baby.” he drops the ‘red’ part altogether, but instead of the scowl he was expecting, he gets a distracted little smile. The television’s on, too, but the volume’s been turned down and Tim’s not watching it. The redhead circles around the couch to what has him so preoccupied.

 

He’s cradling a puppy to his chest.

 

Roy almost coos. He kneels down at the foot of the couch and strokes it’s ear lightly. “You got a dog.” he says.

 

“I got a dog.” Tim hums.

 

“You got a corgi puppy.”

 

He purses his lips. “As it turns out, Mrs Mac is quite fond of Pembroke Welsh Corgis. She’s even agreed to look after her when I’m at school or away.”

 

The pup jolts a little and yawns, before settling down again. Roy _does_ coo then. Tim laughs quietly, and the redhead follows the curve of his lips, the smile in his eyes. “Does she have a name?” 

 

Tim shakes his head. “Not yet.”

 

The pup is shaky on her legs, but it doesn’t stop her from pawing at the new hand petting her with curiosity. Roy doesn’t even notice Tim’s hand move until he’s scratching at the side of Roy’s jaw. “You cut your hair.” he says.

 

The scratching feels good, and Roy’s going to blame that on lingering doggie instinct and Tim’s amazing hands. “I was sick of it in my face all the time. And my hair-ties kept breaking.” He makes a face and scratches his chin, arching a brow at Tim. “I have _no idea_ where my hat went.”

 

Tim shrugs. “It’s a mystery.” he says, beating back a smile and before Roy can register what he’s doing, he presses his lips against the corner of Tim’s mouth. He shifts when Tim laughs, slipping his tongue into his mouth-

 

Then gets licked in the jaw, and pulls back because he’d knocked the puppy off her perch, but she’s pawing at him and licking his face, and Tim’s laughing, too, so he counts that as a win.


End file.
